


Once a Villain, Never a Hero

by LadyCookieCupcake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dark Sherlock, Hero turned Villain, I wouldn't say it's graphically detailed but just to be on the safe side..., It's very brief and mainly one-sided though, M/M, Originally Posted on deviantART, There is some Johnlock, Written for the Twist Fate contest, there is some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:25:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6392293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCookieCupcake/pseuds/LadyCookieCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my entry for the Twist Fate contest on Deviantart, where it is also posted on. Reading it, I instantly thought of Sherlock Holmes and how dark and twisted he could be, so I tried to write about that. Probably failed...OH WELL!!</p><p>*</p><p>DISCLAIMER TIME:</p><p>Sherlock (c) Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Gatiss and Seven Moffat<br/>John Watson and Sherlock Holmes (c) Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.</p><p>Story Idea/Fanfiction (c) WonderfulNamesGalore/LadyCookieCupcake/CookieMonster (because on some websites I couldn't just stick with the same name...I dunno, I'm weird XD)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once a Villain, Never a Hero

Sherlock always had the capability of turning bad. Always. When he was a child, he'd always bring home dead animals he'd randomly find and experiment on them. His mother and father never quite appreciated the copper smell of blood that seemed to linger around the young boy for hours on end, nor did they appreciate the knotted bits of fur they'd occasionally find dotted around the place. But it never stopped him, why would it? After all, Sherlock thought, why waste perfectly-usable experiment material simply because it's dead?

It was this type of thinking that often got him in trouble, not just with his parents but just about everyone he came in contact with. They'd always give him a strange look when they realised just what he was doing with a dead fox. Of course he ignored them and most of the time, he managed to block them out. Most of the time. There were times, of course, that things got a bit too much, and he'd often just hide away in his room, his chemistry set and the dead animals giving him a slight sense of security. When he was in his room, he could forget about anything and everything.

It was perfect for Sherlock, and if he got the odd look from his mother that screamed of fear and worry, he chose to ignore it.  
 ****

*****

When Sherlock started taking drugs, he was fifteen and so very, very bored with life. Reality was staring to get boring, the stares were getting boring, the people he had the misfortune of encountering were boring. Absolutely everything and everyone was boring, even his experiments were staring to get boring. Nothing was new, everybody was the same, and when he took those drugs things changed. Of course the side effects were not entirely...wanted, and he'd very much prefer not breaking out into a cold sweat simply because he hasn't taken any drugs recently, but hey, it was worth it.

Around the same time Sherlock started the drugs, the case of Carl Powers began. Sherlock had found the folders on the front doorstep, secured safely in a plain, brown shipping packet. He took the case right on; it was, after all, the perfect distraction from drugs and animals limbs, and isn't that what everybody wanted? For Sherlock to b so completely and utterly...boringly normal?

The case didn't last long enough, despite stretching over a few good months, and was solved relatively quickly by Sherlock, who then got bored once more and began taking the drugs. Again.

*****

The first time Sherlock killed someone, it had been two years since the Carl Powers' case and he'd just gotten out of rehab. Well, more like escaped. He'd been on the run from everyone, though mainly his brother who was just starting to cosy up to those with higher power, when he came across the homeless man. It wasn't a planned murder, he hadn't intended to go through that alley and kill someone, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but god, was the rush perfect. The satisfying crack of skill against brick, the scarlet blood splattering across the wall, the shocked expression, the fearful eyes. Even when the man was sure to be dead, even when the man was clearly no longer breathing, Sherlock kept smashing smashing the man's head against the brick wall, over and over and over again until...he shuddered in pleasure.

Letting go of the man, he felt his knees buckle and he let himself fall, pleasure making his limbs twitch. He suddenly felt calm, peaceful. It was like the high of drugs except less dangerous. Once he had relaxed from his high, and was up and ready to carry on his way, Sherlock decided he needed to do that again. Murder was so much better than drugs.  
 ****

*****

**  
**John Watson left Sherlock's life just as swiftly as he slipped into it. Their fateful meeting at St.Bart's was one Sherlock could never forget; first glance, John was normal, but then Sherlock dug deeper and discovered a man much darker, stronger than those around him realised. Sherlock felt his heart skip a beat, and then he asked for the phone and it all went downhill from there.

It took a surprisingly small, simple-almost event to get John to leave, dark, strong John who is a doctor but was once a solider, who could torture you and know where exactly to stick the knife in without causing too much blood. Sherlock thought it would be the body parts in the fridge, maybe the head, the head was always the one that chased everybody out (well, almost everyone, sweet Mrs. Hudson refused to leave, determined to stay). Maybe it'd be the eyeballs he constantly had littering the kitchen sides, all ready to be tested on. Maybe it'd just be Sherlock himself, maybe John would realise Sherlock was just as messed up as everyone accused him to be and leave, run even.

But no, it was none of this. In fact, what did make John leave surprised Sherlock more than anyone has, and was also what finally made Sherlock snap. A simple peck to the forehead, sleepily given and not really thought much of, was what spiraled John into thinking of their relationship, and then he realised, beautiful, wonderful, _**dark** _ John realised he didn't want this. He realised their relationship wasn't normal, not when said relationship involved a Holmes, and he realised he wanted a normal life. Of course chasing criminals and helping to solve cases was fun, it gave John that boost in life he never realised he quite needed until it was there, but he also wanted to be a normal man. He wanted to become a doctor who could help people, who people could trust, and he wanted to be a father and a husband. Deep down, John just wanted the normal, everyday life.

Sherlock didn't like that. He was happy for John to leave for a few days, to distance themselves, let each other think about all of this suddenness, but then after a week had passed and still no sign of John, Sherlock got a bit annoyed. He hunted John down, much like a hungry predator does to it's prey (he sure felt like a predator), and when he found him, he snapped. All the anger, the hurt and the adrenaline suddenly mixed until all he could see was red. John was with a girl, laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, while Sherlock stood watching, hurt and sad and so very angry.

'Course he made John pay. Nobody could get away with hurting Sherlock, even those he loved (and he did love John, god did he love him, it hurt to even think about this betrayal). He made John watch as he decapitated the woman, he made him watch as the girl ('poor' girl) was tortured, killed, and then he hurt John. Truly, had he been in the right mindset, he'd never have hurt John. Maybe kidnap him, yell at him even, but never hurt him, especially not to kill him.

(Later, when Sherlock was calming all-too-quickly from his high, the adrenaline and the hurt and the anger all slowly dissipating, dripping in scarlet- ** _Johnsblood_** -, Sherlock realised he'd always had the capability of turning bad but really, he'd never been good in the beginning.)


End file.
